basking on the ceiling
You know I’m feeling heart-broken when I’m listening to Ani’s Educated Guess because I feel like I need to, not just because it’s a good album. Meh. I guess that that’s life. And I guess the summary of that relationship was: you win some you lose some. I’ve been blogging mostly privately lately which I really sort of hate. I think I’m the kind of person who will make all those feelings public by the time they’re burried in the archive. It just seems silly to hide it. I’ve found that most of today I’ve been alright though. Despite the anxiety. I’m sort of sad. Sort of betrayed feeling. Sort of ready to move on. But mostly I’m just starting to try to feel alright again. I don’t have to supress my anger anymore, I can let go into it and then get past it and that’s probably the healthiest thing for me right now. And it’s nice to actually enjoy the singularity that I was aiming for when I broke up with Joe in the first place. Agh. (That’s a partial-lie that I’m telling myself to feel better right now). Man, I’m just really fucking all over the place about this. I guess that is the nature of heartache though. I notice that I’ve built a lot of walls. That I’m terrified to trust and even more afraid to love someone who isn’t myself again. I haven’t felt this way ever before that I can remember. Maybe with Colby, but that was really different. I was just really sad and heartbroken for the first time. I just want to push everyone away right now cos I’m scared of what hurt I could feel next. You really did a number on me, and in no time at all. I’m thinking an unsent letter might be the best way to deal with this. But we all know that my unsent letters always get sent. Always always. Maybe I should write an open letter. Open letters are the best anyway.
I wanna write a bunch of poetry. I like writing and reading poetry. So far today I’ve only managed to read two poems. One was by Hunter S. Thompson, it was alright. Hunter S. Thompson. You know. Writing poetry on a napkin in a diner, I’m sure. Writing poetry that makes you cringe a little as you read it outloud for the first time but by the end of it you shrug and say Well, that’s Hunter S. Thompson and move on to the next. Not bad. The other was by Tupac. Predicting his own death. Tupac is one of the major reasons that I started writing poetry. It’s nice to read him again.
I saw Stranger than Fiction for the second time with Steve and we hung out last night for a few hours as well. I think the movie was just as good the second time, but I totally have a crush on Dustin Hoffman in the movie in a sort of creepy way and so I have to factor that into my love of the movie. Plus, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Will Farrell and everyone… wonderful acting and I think the script is good. There are parts of it where I just get really caught up on the wording. Like the scene where Kay says “Like all things worth writing, it came inexplicably and without method.” I love it!
I’m also really glad that Steve and I are hanging out again, turns out I’ve missed him quite a bit. I was thinking during the movie about how long I’ve wanted to just be able to get along again and I’m glad we can do that now. It’s sad that he leaves for France in a week though… I keep thinking back to this conversation we had over one of our first dates about how in a few years he was going to study abroad in France for a semester and i remember being really sad at Paisanos that he’d be leaving because I had this really… loving… sense of “i’ll miss you” and I just sorta didn’t want him to go. and so much has happened in both of our lives (including the rise and fall of the most significant relationships of our lives to date) since that dinner and now we’re friends again and I’m sad he’s leaving again. How interesting life is. But in a good way. I’m so excited for him though. I think he’ll have a good time and I think it’d be fun to run into him in Europe in the summer maybe and nice to have the chance to really build a friendship when he gets back.